State of New York vs Jesse Woodson
by legalese
Summary: When a young girl gets hit on the head with a brick but recognizes her attacker's voice, Connie Rubirosa figures it's a pretty straightforward case. However, as she works with Mike Cutter to figure out what really happened, they soon discover that a string of drug robberies as well as cyberbullying are involved. Eventual Mike/Connie.
1. Chapter 1

Connie closed the last file and pushed it away, lowering her head down onto her desk. For the past week, she had been swamped with cases, and it was beginning to take a toll. With a sigh, Connie closed her eyes. She wasn't going to go to sleep at work, she told herself. She just needed five minutes -

"We have a new case."

Connie groaned and looked up at Mike. "We do?"

He raised his eyebrows at her. "You know what? Never mind. Far be it from me to let justice get in the way of your beauty sleep..."

"I know this is asking a lot, Mike," Connie began, "but do you think you could at least _try_ to stop being a jerk for two seconds?"

"I'll take it on serious consideration and get back to you on that one," he replied, plopping himself down on the chair in front of her desk. "Now, do you wanna hear about the case or should I find myself a better ADA?"

Connie sighed. "Do I have a choice?"

"Not really, no. It's not gonna be an easy one, let me tell you." Mike said, carefully placing a manila folder on Connie's desk. "15-year-old Angel Sterling got hit with a brick on her way home from school. No witnesses, but she heard the guy who did it - Jesse Woodson."

Connie frowned. "Why isn't it an easy case, then?"

Mike smiled and stood up. "Read the file."

Connie rolled her eyes and threw a paper clip at him. Hands up in an overly-innocent gesture, Mike slowly backed out the door.

As soon as he was gone, Connie flipped open the file. As she began to read the evidence gathered by Detectives Lupo and Bernard, a slight smile began to form on her face. This promised to be a very interesting case, indeed.

* * *

"Can I handle the arraignment?" Mike turned away from his whiteboard to see Connie leaning on the doorway, arms crossed over her pink sweater.

He shrugged. "Well, I just don't know if I can trust you with this Connie. As I recall, you didn't even want to take the case in the first place. How can I know you won't try to sabotage it?"

"You can't. That's the beauty of it." Connie nodded earnestly. "You'll just have to take a leap of faith."

Mike shook his head. "I see your point, counselor, but I'm starting to feel that we are at a point in our relationship when trust is no longer an option."

Connie gasped dramatically. "But - but - but - I don't _understand_."

"It's really quite simple, my dear." Mike walked over to her and whispered in her ear. "I know you too well to trust you."

Connie gave up trying to contain herself and burst out laughing. "Seriously, Mike, can I handle the arraignment? Please?"

"Sure." He gave her a slow grin. "And to think you didn't want another case."

"This one's different." Connie shook her head. "That poor girl. Did you read the comments on that Facebook page?"

"What page?"

Connie sat down in Mike's chair and turned on his computer. She quickly logged onto her Facebook and pulled up a page titled _Clip Angel's Wings_. Mike bent over and looked at the screen from behind her. "Oh, God."

The page was brutal. Created by Jesse Woodson, an 18-year-old working as an intern at Angel's school's computer lab, it was full of comments calling Angel Sterling everything from a chubby nerd to a pimple faced freak.

"See this girl, Madison Jackson?" Connie pointed at one of the comments and turned to look at Mike. "She's the one who posted the most comments about Angel. The detectives talked to the principal at the school, and he mentioned that she used to push her into lockers and throw her books down. All these kids are friends from school, and they all bullied Angel - physically and online."

Mike took out a marker and began furiously scribbling on his whiteboard. "What do we know about this Jackson girl?"

Connie flipped through some pages on the file. "Well, we know Angel reported her and her friends to the principal for bullying, but the school let them off with a slap on the wrist. That's where it gets interesting..." Connie hmm'ed pensively.

Mike stopped what he was doing and turned around to look at her. "What?"

"Well, the kids all live in more or less the same neighborhood - Dunbar Academy is the closest private school to their houses." Connie cocked her head to the side and bit one of her fingernails. "I think I remember reading something about a string of burglaries in that part of town. There were always two robbers who came in and took prescription medicines from bathrooms."

"Just like what happened at Angel Sterling's house," Michael exclaimed, taking the file from Connie's hands. "Let's see - her mother reported it on November 22nd, the day after the fact. It says here that Angel actually saw the robbers."

Connie picked up the phone on Mike's desk. "You think maybe they told her something?"

"Maybe this attack wasn't so much about hate as a warning to keep quiet," Mike mused. "Call the detectives. Tell them to go talk to Angel Sterling again and find out if she's hiding something. We've got our work cut out for us."

Connie nodded. As she quickly informed Detective Lupo of their new theory of the case, Mike turned back to his whiteboard, erased some of what he'd written, and began scribbling furiously once more.

* * *

**Thoughts?**


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, Connie sauntered into Mike's office, handed him a fresh cup of coffee to replace the one he'd been sipping from all morning, and made herself comfortable on his couch. Her boss quickly finished typing up a motion and looked up.

"Anything new with the Sterling case?"

She nodded. "The detectives went over to Angel's house to talk to her. It took a while, but they finally got the whole story out of her." Connie placed a couple of pages on Mike's desk. He put on his reading glasses and obediently glanced at the document. According to Detective Bernard's report, Angel Sterling had stayed up late when she heard noises coming from the bathroom. When she turned on the lights, she observed two robbers wearing ski masks. One of them dropped the bag they were placing prescription medicine into and began picking up the spilled contents while the other robber took Angel Sterling by the hair and told her if she told anyone about what happened, she'd get a brick to the head. The burglars then left. Angel Sterling recognized the voice as belonging to Jesse Woodson.

Mike took off his glasses and looked at Connie. "That's so random."

"What?"

"Think about it, Connie. Who threatens someone with a brick to the head?" Mike took his basketball in one hand and began tossing it pensively. "I mean, that's so specific. It's not like 'stay quiet or I'll hurt you,' it's more like 'stay quiet or I'll drop a piano on you'."

Connie shrugged. "I guess."

Mike's eyes narrowed. "Hey, did you print out a copy of the Facebook page?"

"Yeah, sure." Connie took the document from the file and handed it over. "Why? What are you thinking, Mike?"

He scanned the document and gave it back to her. "Jesse Woodson created this page, but he only made three comments. In one, he wrote that this was a page to vent about Angel Sterling. In another, he wrote haha to one of Jackson's comments. But look at this one."

"Someone should teach that kid a lesson." Connie read. "Anyone got a brick? LOL."

"We're missing something, here." Mike squeezed his baseball before tossing it up again.

"Okay, hold on a second. We know Jesse Woodson created this page." Connie took a green marker and began making a timeline on Mike's whiteboard. "It says here that he created it the day after the burglary, and he mentioned the brick then, too. Now, he said the point of the page was for the kids to vent, but this thing is public. Anyone can see it - even Angel Sterling."

"So he was using it to intimidate her." Mike shrugged. "We already knew that."

"Yeah, but he was doing this under his own name. Makes you wonder what he wrote to her anonymously, doesn't it?"

"Connie, you're a genius!" Mike took his phone and dialed Detective Lupo's phone number. "Detective. This is Mike Cutter. Get TARU to go over Angel Sterling's computer and see if she got any anonymous messages. Also, pull her phone records and see if she's been getting any weird phone calls she hasn't told us about. Oh, and find out if Jesse Woodson or Madison Jackson have records. Yeah, I know, I know it's a lot, but I really think we can nail this guy. Also, see how much the police know about those burglaries that have been going on around Powell street lately. Yeah, the ones with the medicines. Okay, thank you, Detective. Good bye."

Connie gave her boss a smile. "Guess we're working late tonight, huh?"

He stood up and started putting on his coat. "Yep."

"On a Friday?" She shook her head at him. "Slave driver."

Mike opened the door. "Come on, before I start to regret buying you lunch."

Connie grinned and quickly took hold of her things. "Can we go to that little Mexican place this time?"

Cutter rolled his eyes but nodded anyway. He didn't even know why she bothered asking. They always ended up getting whatever she wanted, anyway.

* * *

Connie Rubirosa was starting to get worried. When she was in law school, she knew what she'd signed up for by deciding to be a prosecutor - crappy pay, long hours, and little time for a personal life. Oh, who was she kidding? _No_ time for a personal life. She'd been aware of all that when she applied for her current job, and she'd always thought she could live with it.

Until now.

Things had been getting weird with Mike, lately. The thing with the juror, then the awkwardness of the Woll case and - and the way he'd reacted when Stuber called her a spic, and the way she'd reacted to his reaction... Connie didn't know what freaked her out more: Mike's obvious feelings for her or the fact that she couldn't seem to discern how she felt about the whole debacle.

He was her boss. That was the most important thing to remember, here. He was her boss, and he was so off-limits, it wasn't even funny. It didn't matter that he wasn't an arrogant jerk like Marcus, sleeping with the boss - no matter how handsome and funny he was - would be demeaning, not to mention completely unethical.

But the way he _stared_ at her...

Like now, for instance. They sat on opposite sides of the tiny table, Mike plowing into a plate of _tacos al pastor_ while Connie took tiny bites out of her _chilaquiles_. Both appeared absorbed in their food, but Connie still sensed Mike's eyes roving over her face every two seconds.

"You want some?" She asked, breaking the silence to offer him a forkful of delicious chicken and chips drenched in cheese and green sauce. Mike hesitated. "Oh, come on. You always have the tacos. Try something new, for once."

He took the fork cautiously. "Is it spicy?"

Connie shook her head as she took a sip of her Diet Coke.

Mike took a deep breath. "Okay, then. Let's see how this goes..."

He placed the bite of food in his mouth. Connie stared, eagerly awaiting a reaction. Finally, he smiled and slid her plate over to his side of the table. "You know, this _is_ a little spicy. Tell you what, why don't you take my tacos and I'll eat this for you." Connie started to protest, but Mike held up a hand. "No, no, no. No need to thank me. My mother raised me to be a gentleman, and I am more than happy to sacrifice myself for a beautiful lady such as yourself."

Connie raised an eyebrow at him. "A real gentleman would sacrifice himself for any lady - not just a beautiful one."

Mike paused a moment to consider this. "True, but you are, in fact, a beautiful lady, so the point is moot."

"Well, _this_ beautiful lady doesn't need you to sacrifice yourself for her, thank you very much." Connie replied as she reached over, shamelessly stole one of Mike's tacos and took a bite.

"Oh, really? In that case, you're not getting any more of my food, ma'am." Mike leaned over and took the half-eaten taco out of Connie's hand, then proceeded to shove it all in his mouth.

Connie finished chewing, took a sip of her drink and childishly stuck her tongue out at him.

* * *

**What do you guys think? First fanfic, so please be nice!**


	3. Chapter 3

After lunch, Mike and Connie returned to the office to find the phone practically ringing off the hook.

"Mike Cutter's office." Connie answered. "Oh. Hello, Detective. Great, thanks. I'll go get them right away."

"Do they have something for us? That was fast." Mike knelt down before his couch and began digging beneath the cushions for his basketball.

"No information on the computer or phone records yet, and neither Woodson nor Jackson have rap sheets, but they're faxing over something they found on Woodson, plus everything available on the burglaries." Connie took off her coat and scarf and placed them on an empty chair. "I'm going to bring everything over so we can get started. Who knows, maybe today we'll be able to get home before midnight."

"Sure we will." Mike nodded, sarcasm dripping from his voice, but Connie was already halfway down the hall. He finally managed to extract the basketball from the sofa's death grip and began throwing it from hand to hand, wondering how it had gotten there. He had a tendency to bounce it compulsively off the walls after a bad case, maybe Connie had gotten sick of it and hidden it where she thought he wouldn't find it. That didn't make sense, though - the bump of the baseball was far too noticeable for Connie to think it would be well hidden.

Connie's return to the office with a thick folder of paper banished the baseball mystery from Mike's mind. He liked puzzles of all kinds, but convicting an attempted murderer took precedence over finding out who'd hidden his baseball. Connie set the folder down on the coffee table and took her spot on the couch next to Mike. For some reason, even though they always started working in that exact position, they eventually ended up on completely opposite sides of the room.

Mike handed Connie a highlighter and kept one for himself. They had a routine by now - Mike started at the bottom, Connie at the top. He highlighted whatever helped their case in blue, she highlighted what the defense could use in yellow. Eventually, they traded documents. Most attorneys would've split up the work to get done more quickly, but this particular method had served them well, and they weren't about to change it now.

The office fell silent as the lawyers began doing their thing. Connie's eyes flew over the page she was holding. According to the detectives, Madison Jackson had never had so much as a brush with the law, but Jesse Woodson was an entirely different story. Somehow, they'd managed to get their hands on an officer's report regarding an incident with Woodson's sister...

"Mike. Listen to this. Jesse Woodson was arrested a few years ago for hitting a boy on the chest... with a brick." Her boss' eyebrows rose. "The officer who arrested him wrote: Woodson claimed that the boy had been bothering his 14-year-old sister, Harriet, and wouldn't stop even though he was asked to. When Woodson saw the boy push his sister to the ground and hit her, he reacted by grabbing a brick and throwing it at him. Woodson stated he only meant to scare the boy away."

"So this guy has a signature." Mike stood up and began writing on his white board. "If everyone knew about what happened, which they probably did, considering they're all high school students, threatening Sterling with something he'd already done would be much more likely to terrify her."

"Okay, but it doesn't matter because no judge is ever going to let us use this. It's a prior bad act - completely inadmissible."

"_People v. Sorge_. A defendant, like any other witness, may be interrogated on cross examination in regard to an vicious or criminal act of his life that has a bearing on his credibility as a witness. 301 N.Y. 198." Mike quoted.

Connie smiled. "And you have that memorized because...?"

"That, Ms. Rubirosa, is one of the most useful precedents in this entire state." He turned away from the whiteboard for a second and flashed her his dimples. "Well, if you're a prosecutor, of course."

"Of course." Connie took a pen and wrote the name of the case on her hand. She'd print a copy of the opinion and go over it when she got home, she decided. Mike wasn't the only one who could memorize. "So, let's say that we manage to get this in -"

"Which we will."

"- you can still only use it on cross, and it could bite us in the ass if Woodson has a good defense lawyer. I mean, he did this to protect his little sister from a bully."

"And then, he proceeded to become a bully himself." Mike stopped writing on the board and returned to the couch. "This is a good thing, Connie."

She uncapped her yellow highlighter and underlined Harriet's name. "Maybe. But only if we play it right."

* * *

The burglaries in the area around Dunbar Academy had begun nine months ago. From the very first one, the police reports mentioned basically the same things: two burglars jammed open a window or picked a lock to wake their way into the house and steal prescription medicines. There was never any forensic evidence, and no one ever saw the burglars - much less their faces - so the thieves remained at large.

At least until the burglary of the Sterlings' home occurred.

Connie began clicking her highlighter against Mike's desk. "Okay, let's go over this again. Basically, Angel stayed up late because she was chatting with some friends online. She heard a noise in the bathroom and went to investigate."

"Which wasn't the smartest thing to do." He pointed out. "She should've grabbed a phone and called 9-1-1."

"She's only fifteen, Mike. What did you expect?" Connie shrugged. "Here's the thing. Angel told the police that she turned the bathroom light on and one of the burglars dropped the bag they were putting the medicine in. Everything spilled out."

"Okay. And?"

"And the next day, which was November 22nd, the police found Madison Jackson's school ID on the bathroom floor. Maybe we're looking at this the wrong way. Maybe Jackson and Woodson did this together to intimidate Angel into keeping quiet about the burglary." Connie stood up and began pacing.

"Maybe. Call the police." Mike tossed his baseball up and caught it again. "Have them talk to both of them."

Connie nodded and, for what had to have been the tenth time that day, picked up the phone and dialed the number for the 2-7 precinct.

"Oh, and don't forget to remind them to have a parent or guardian present just in case one of them says something we can use." Mike added.

"Why don't we wait and see if we can get a warrant for their houses and a subpoena for Woodson and Jackson's behavioral records at the school? That way they won't have time to hide any evidence - if they haven't already, I mean."

Mike shrugged. "We may as well try. We'll have to come up with some probable cause before tomorrow, though."

Connie smiled at him and put the phone down. "Sounds like we have work to do."

* * *

**Thanks to the people who reviewed. Anyone else interested in sharing their thoughts? **

**(By the way, People v. Sorge is an actual New York precedent that would apply in this case because New York lacks a codified set of evidence rules and these are therefore derived from common law. You can find it on leagle.)**


End file.
